


Escape From Yourself

by ShadCat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cutting, Feels, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadCat/pseuds/ShadCat
Summary: Sometimes the pain in Prompto's soul is just too much. If he can no longer stand it, he can think of no other solution than to hurt himself. Just a few cuts and everything feels better again...
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Escape From Yourself

Prompto sniffed as he watched his blood. His blood, which flowed down his leg in very slow red traces. He had done it again, even if he'd promised himself never to do it again. Prompto wanted to stop hurting himself. But sometimes it was the only thing that could help. The only thing that made him feel better.

The blonde took a deep breath as he dropped onto his bed. His leg ached and burned and he let go of the small kitchen knife, which fell off the bed with a clank. He looked up at the ceiling and felt tears running down his cheek.

Slowly the fan on the ceiling turned and tried to cool the warm air in the room. The fine beads of sweat on Prompto's skin showed that it’s work was completely useless. He noticed how he already felt better. How he calmed down internally, how he felt he could breathe again. This terrible feeling inside was slowly becoming less as if it had left his body with the stream of blood. As if it was flowing down his leg with his blood and turning the bed sheets red.

Prompto took a deep breath as he pulled his own hair with his hands. He had to stop. He really had to stop. It was not healthy. His legs were full of wounds. Full of scratches, crusts and scars. Which was the reason why he always wore jeans even in summer. He couldn't let it go any further. And yet... As often as Prompto had intended to stop, it was like an addiction. He needed those throbbing, aching wounds to feel better. When they came, those dark terrible feelings, nothing else could help him. Nothing but the cuts that freed him from them.

With trembling fingers, Prompto wiped the tears from his cheeks. _Calm down Argentum, calm down. Nothing happened. It's all right._

When he was little child, his mother hit him. He wasn't a psychologist, but Prompto sensed that this was where his unhealthy behavior came from. She had hit him many times. Sometimes for no apparent reason. At least as a child, he hadn't understood it. Only later in his life did his father explain to him that it was due to the code on his wrist. That his mother was afraid of what this code meant and what would happen if someone from the Kingsglaive noticed that they were hiding a Niflheimer child in Lucis. And she showed these fears by hitting Prompto. Whenever he did something that she considered dangerous for their family. Even if it was just that he forgot to put the bracelet on.

Prompto didn't hate his mother. No, at some point he had decided that he deserved it. He deserved the hits because he was a burden. A danger to his own parents who have given him a home and a life.

When he went to middle school, his parents found a job in Accordo and they looked for a second apartment. Since then they have hardly been home with him. The blonde couldn't do anything about it, but he felt guilty. As if his presence had driven his parents away. As if he was the reason that they no longer come home. And maybe he was right. Maybe his mother couldn't stand him anymore and his father wanted to protect him. Maybe. Prompto didn't want to ask. As soon as he turned eighteen, he would move out. Even if it was only a tiny room and even if he would live on next to nothing, he wanted to move out. Maybe his parents would come back if he didn't live here any longer.

It was precisely these thoughts that choked Prompto. These dark, sinister thoughts to be hated and rejected. _Who in the world could love me if my own parents could hardly?_

And sometimes this feeling was so terrible and so heavy on his soul that he could hardly breathe. Then the blonde could only cry and felt his body shake and could barely move. These were the moments when he could save himself with only one thing. By cutting himself. As soon as the pain reached his brain and the blood flowed down his leg, he relaxed. Prompto could stop crying, he could breathe again. He had been punished.

But he had to stop. Prompto knew it himself. He had to stop. That was not a good thing. It wasn't the right way to feel better. But it was so difficult. It was so hard to be alone. It was so difficult to make every decision alone and to live alone with the consequences. He just longed to be loved.

Prompto took his hands off his face and looked up at the fan. He watched the slow movements and just breathed. It was so warm. It was stuffy in his room and the air was heavy.

The Blonde stroked the fresh wounds with a gentle movement of his fingers. He didn't even flinch no matter how bad it burned. He accepted the pain.

The blonde raised his hand over his face and rubbed the fresh blood between his fingertips. It looked just like any other blood. What was so different about it? Would his life be different if he had the same blood as his parents? Would they have noticed it at all?

_Ugh, stop it. Don't think about it anymore. Otherwise you will feel bad again._

Prompto bit on his lower lip and felt this weight again on his chest. This weight that was pushing him down and he felt how breathing became more and more difficult. He would always be different from his parents. He was cursed to be wrong forever. He himself was a punishment for his parents.

 _...wasn't it enough? Would another cut help?_ Since he already started, another cut would make no difference. He didn't have to fight it, it didn't matter. He didn’t matter.

Prompto sniffed again as he leaned down to grab the knife. His fingers were brushing the handle as his smartphone vibrated on the nightstand.

The blonde raised his head and looked at the contact and felt like new life was immediately coming into him. Noctis called him. The knife on the floor was instantly forgotten when Prompto sat on the bed with hectic movements and grabbed his smartphone. He blushed. He had made friends with the Prince of Lucis a few months ago and by the gods, he also had a crush on him. _Damn, a big crush_.

"Y-Yeah, Noct?"

Oh, Prompto was so excited. All the dark thoughts and pain were erased as quickly as if they never existed. As if sunshine had chased away the night in his heart.

“Dude, let's escape this heat! Let's go to the arcade, they have air conditioning and an ice cream parlor next to it. ...besides, everyone is at the sea anyway, so we have all games to ourselves. Doesn’t it sound great?"

The blonde couldn't help but laugh. As if Noctis had to persuade him to do something! He would follow him to the end of the world without asking.

"Sure! Let's say we'll meet at the entrance in half an hour?"

Prompto felt so easy. It was easy to ignore the pain inside if there was someone who just made him feel good again. Maybe he had finally found someone who loved him as he was. What a nice thought.

After Noctis agreed, Prompto almost jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to clean himself up. He tied a bandage around the wound and liked the pure white. There was something comforting about this purity. When he got back to his room he looked down at the knife on the floor and looked almost angry at it, before he kicked it under the bed. Now he didn't want to see it anymore. Now he wanted to focus on Noct. And on a nice day together.


End file.
